Fratricide Read online

  Craig Martelle

  Michael Anderle

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  Fratricide (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2019 Craig Martelle and Michael Anderle

  Cover by J Caleb Design, Typography by Jeff Brown

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, July 2019

  ebook ISBN: 978-1-64202-380-0

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015-2019 by Michael T. Anderle and LMBPN Publishing.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Author Notes - Craig Martelle

  Books by Craig Martelle

  Books By Michael Anderle

  The Fratricide Team

  Thanks to our Beta Readers

  Micky Cocker, James Caplan, Kelly O’Donnell, and John Ashmore

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Dave Hicks

  Nicole Emens

  Jackey Hankard-Brodie

  Daniel Weigert

  Kelly O’Donnell

  Micky Cocker

  Diane L. Smith

  Shari Regan

  John Ashmore

  Jeff Eaton

  Peter Manis

  Larry Omans

  Misty Roa

  James Caplan

  If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editor

  Lynne Stiegler

  We can’t write without those who support us

  On the home front, we thank you for being there for us

  We wouldn’t be able to do this for a living if it weren’t for our readers

  We thank you for reading our books

  Chapter One

  Etheric Federation Border Station 13 – Under Construction

  “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” the construction superintendent railed. “How did we lose another one? What are you stupid fuckers doing out there?”

  “Our jobs—building this station. What are you doing in here?” a gruff old general foreman grumbled before stuffing a spiceweed stick in his mouth and starting to chew.

  “And that garbage...” The super pointed at the stick. He shook his head and pulled up the incident report that had been flashing on his screen. He read it out loud. “Inconclusive. Safety protocols in place. Probably operator error.”

  The old man continued to chew as he shrugged indifferently. “Stupid kids you brought in for this job. Making ‘em work too fast. In over their heads. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He laughed until ending with a rasping cough.

  The construction superintendent had had enough. He pointed to the spiceweed stick. “That’s contraband, and I’ve had enough of you. You’re fired. Get into the receiving barracks until our investigation is finished. You’re in a non-pay status effective immediately.”

  “Suck my ass! If I’m taking orders, I’m getting paid.”

  “Security!” the super shouted. Two Yollins arrived, followed closely by an Ixtali. “Detain this man for questioning in the latest construction death. I expect he’ll be doing hard time shortly for his crimes, whatever they are. Make no mistake, we’ll find out.” They dragged the cursing and spitting man out, his strength surprising for an oldster high on weed. But he wasn’t stronger than the Yollins and the Ixtali.

  The construction superintendent mulled over the latest report. He didn’t need the running summary to know. The tally was emblazoned in his mind: five deaths in as many months. All gruesome, horrible ways to go. All preventable, at least in his mind. It wasn’t normal for workers to die when automated systems did the dangerous work. Someone had to be sabotaging the project.

  “I’m turning this one over to the Federation.” He poked the request in and hit Send before he could change his mind. As the construction superintendent, the crew was his responsibility. He was angry with himself for not acting sooner. Five lives lost, and he was afraid they wouldn’t be the last.

  Federation Border Station 7

  Rivka closed her eyes as she enjoyed each bite of every slice of Moonstokle pie. It was like the forbidden fruit, delicious for being so reviled. Her friend, dentist Tyler Toofakre, watched her carefully. He’d finished his burger three slices earlier. It wasn’t that she ate slowly, it was that she ate a lot. He waited patiently while she reveled in her lunch.

  “No more trips for me. I can’t leave my practice like that again.”

  When Rivka finished chewing, she opened her eyes. “Not what you expected?”

  “Unfortunately, it was exactly what I expected. I heard your stories, and my mind concocted the terrors. And then the blood, the fire, the pain, the thrill. It was a bit overwhelming. Keep in mind what I do. Normal everyday stuff. I don’t get into firefights. I don’t carry dead people. She was really heavy, by the way.”

  “Don’t say that to her unless you want your ass kicked.” Rivka chuckled softly, but Tyler didn’t see the humor. “There is plenty of room on the new ship if you want to reconsider.”

  “I just said no.”

  “Maybe I don’t take no for an answer.” She took the last slice and shoved it into her mouth while she continued to chew.

  “You’ll have to accept this one. I’m not going. I will have heart failure and die if I go through that much excitement again.”

  Rivka looked forlornly at the empty pizza tray. “You did great. You gave us the help we needed when we needed it. With the bigger ship, I’m going to need a real crew with a sick bay that’s staffed because... Well. You know.”

  “Blood and running,” he finished for her.

  “It seems to be our trademark.” She wiped her mouth and dropped the napkin on the table. “I need to get going, see what is on the docket.”

  “As do I. Lunch break is over.”

  “Same time tomorrow?”

  “Will you order something else?” The dentist watched her carefully to gauge the truth of her answer.

&n
bsp; “I will not.” A curt reply. Definitive. And exactly as expected. “So what if I do?”

  “If you say you’re ordering something else, then I’ll know it’s not you but a doppelganger of you, who I don’t wish to have lunch with.”

  “Strangled logic, but I’ll accept it.”

  Rivka left without paying the check. She’d let the dentist cover it. They traded some of the time unless she wanted to get his outsider opinion. Then she paid. She used a credit stick, although she had no idea how much was on it. Ankh had assured her she would never spend it all. How he knew and she didn’t befuddled her.

  She strolled out the front entrance of the All Guns Blazing and headed for the back stairwell. Her bodyguards, Red and Lindy, slipped into formation with her, one in front and one behind. After that, she couldn’t see because Red blocked her vision.

  “Have you gotten bigger?” she complained.

  “Two more trips to the Pod-doc. I had to buy all new clothes.”

  “Stop getting juiced. You’re addicted, and I’m cutting you off.”

  “Like hell!”

  Lindy called from behind, “Defensive much?”

  Red stopped and checked the corridor in front of him before turning to face the others. “Nanocytes. For the good of all humanity, a gift from the Kurtherians. They make me better at my job.”

  “There’s a limit, and you just hit it. We don’t need a three-meter-tall hulking sasquatch on the team. You are plenty intimidating as you are. Any bigger, and you won’t be able to travel with me on other worlds. They won’t have transport big enough. I like riding in a limo, not a bus.”

  “I prefer limousines as well,” Lindy remarked.

  Red’s face contorted. “Just one more. There’s extra sculpting—”

  The Magistrate cut him off. “You’ve had your last one. What the hell is going on, Red? Do you think that because you almost died, you weren’t big enough or strong enough? You survived! You are fine, and doing the job better than any other human being I’ve ever met. You and Lindy are unstoppable. And if you get any bigger, I won’t be able to carry your sorry ass off the battlefield.”

  “You’re pretty strong for your size,” Red countered weakly while looking at the deck. He wasn’t good at verbal jousting. He couldn’t defend his position. The Magistrate was right. It wasn’t about sculpting, it was about having almost died. “I won’t. Lindy can make sure.”

  “I’ll make sure.” Rivka pulled her datapad from the inside pocket of her oft-repaired Magistrate’s jacket. With a few taps on the screen, she declared victory. “Done.”

  “What did you do?” Lindy tried to look over her shoulder, but Rivka had put the pad away.

  “Any Pod-doc time requires my personal approval unless you are already dead.”

  “Already dead.” Red wasn’t sure he liked the way those words rolled off his tongue.

  “I’m your huckleberry!” Lindy declared. “We’ll just have to make sure we keep the Magistrate alive so you can get treated if you need it to keep you from dying.”

  “I like this plan.” Rivka gestured for the entourage to start moving. Red frowned but conceded and headed for the Magistrate’s meeting room, where they expected to find at least Grainger.

  They made quick work of the walk, and Red and Lindy remained in the hallway while Rivka joined her fellow Magistrate.

  To find that Jael and Buster were there as well.

  “Friends, Magistrates, countrymen!” Rivka cruised around the table to greet her friends before punching Grainger in the shoulder and taking the seat next to him.

  “’Sup?” Grainger asked in his coolest voice.

  “Zombie! It’s about time you showed up at one of these.” Jael shook an admonishing finger. “Gallivanting around the galaxy with your boyfriend in tow, no less!”

  Rivka did a double take. “Boyfriend? No boyfriend.”

  “Man-candy, then?” Buster Crabbe offered. “Like a napkin, used up and thrown away.”

  He and Jael shook their heads in unison.

  When Jael turned back, she had a question. “So the dentist is available?”

  “Say what?”

  “I can have him?” It sounded like a question.

  “He’s not a commodity. We just went through the slave trade, and it didn’t end well for the body brokers.”

  “Is he yours or not?”

  “Not. We’re friends. That’s it.”

  “I could be his friend...” Jael let that hang. Rivka gave her the hairy eyeball until Jael started to laugh. When she finished, her face took on a hard edge. “We don’t get to have anyone who’s more than a friend. This is the sacrifice we make.”

  Grainger waited until the banter was finished before interjecting, “Sounds like everyone has gone through some hard times lately. What we do matters. We care that the Magistrates are capable of doing their jobs. We care that you aren’t on the edge of losing it. If you need to take your man-candy to the pleasure moon, so be it. We can’t have you out there if you’re going to go off the deep end. Last thing we need is a Magistrate gone rogue.”

  “Like the Rangers were accused of doing?” Rivka asked. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as her peers glared at the upstart newcomer.

  Relatively new. She had the best legal education in the group, but she hadn’t started where they had.

  “Something like that. Even the perception that we’ve gone off the rails is enough to have the Magistrates demonized. And then disbanded.”

  “We’ve seen it before, and it wasn’t pretty,” Buster added.

  Rivka met their gaze as an equal. She understood. Red was standing outside dealing with the trauma of his near-death. Lindy was faring better, but maybe Rivka was missing something. She would have to check more thoroughly. Maybe touch both of them inconspicuously and see what was on their minds. It was for the good of the team.

  The slippery slope of the end justifying the means. No, she couldn’t touch them without asking first. They deserved to be treated with respect and within the law.

  “Are you sure you weren’t looking in a mirror?” Jael asked.

  Grainger twisted his hands. “Did I miss something?”

  “Buster said it wasn’t pretty. Jeez, you guys have gone soft. You need to up your game by a whole lot.” Jael made a disgusted sound to go with the look she gave her fellows.

  Rivka stared back blankly. “So, Bustamove, what are you doing for dinner?”

  “He’s probably leaving,” Grainger answered on Buster’s behalf.

  Rivka fixed him with her best stink-eye. “After giving us the lecture about how much you care about us, you’re going to ship us all out on cases, aren’t you?”

  “Jael said we were getting soft. Can’t have that happen.” Grainger tapped his device and dozens of cases scrolled by.

  “Those are all important enough to require a Magistrate? What the hell are the locals doing?” Rivka pulled out her datapad to read more in-depth on some of the cases.

  “They’re probably just like us,” Grainger said softly. “Tired and overwhelmed.”

  “I don’t think we’re overwhelmed at all. We need to have better cooperation from the locals. That is all I’m asking for. Whenever I show up, they start shooting at me.”

  “I think it might just be you, Rivka. Anyone shoot at you guys?” Grainger turned to Buster and Jael. They both shook their heads.

  “Now that’s a bunch of bullshit.” Rivka smirked at the group.

  A gentle knock on the door.

  “Come!” Grainger called without looking. Rivka jumped to her feet and backed against the wall, hand tucked mysteriously into her jacket.

  “What the fuck, Zombie?” Jael asked, trying to reconcile what she was seeing.

  A server from the All Guns Blazing entered under Red’s watchful eye and dropped off three large pizzas, deep dish, Chicago-style, loaded with meat and vegetables. A veritable pizza pie.

  He glanced at Rivka before squeezing past Red and hurry
ing away. Red closed the door as he returned to his post in the hallway.

  “How long have we been here?” Rivka wondered.

  “About five minutes.” Grainger took the first piece and explored the depth of melted cheese and sauce with his tongue. Rivka made a face. Jael and Buster pulled the other two pies to their side of the table.

  “You know I just ate.” The smell made Rivka’s mouth water.

  “So?” Grainger asked, his mouth stuffed with half of a steaming slice. “Peace, calmness and joy. The water flows gracefully over the mossy stones. The wild canabears dip their snouts. Drinking and being at one with the world. Now that your shit is all calm and you’re at peace with the world, eat.”

  “Fine.” She reached over, but he pulled the pizza away and sheltered it with one arm. “Why do you want me to beat you into next week?”

  “As if you could.” Grainger pushed the box back into the middle of the table. “What do you think about a construction accident?”

  Rivka snagged a slice and two-handed it into her mouth. She chewed peacefully.

  Grainger tapped her on the arm. “Construction accident?”

  “You were talking to me? Why would we investigate a construction accident?”